The Medallion of Lirep Latrom
by silverbutterfly13
Summary: The winter wind howled in the frozen night, whistling through the empty streets. It was a bitter cold; one that promised snow in the morning. A sudden, sharp 'CRACK' filled the empty night air. In the middle of the street had appeared a old man. Set during "Goblet of Fire".


The winter wind howled in the frozen night, whistling through the empty streets. It was a bitter cold; one that promised snow in the morning. A sudden, sharp 'CRACK' filled the empty night air. In the middle of the street had appeared a old man.

He was stooped over, and under his arm huddled a young woman, who looked to be close to unconsciousness. In the man's clenched fist was a silver chain which twisted to and fro in the frigid air. The pale moonlight glinted off of a silver medallion that hung at the bottom of the chain.

He stared at the necklace for a few seconds with an expression of mixed horror and awe before he shoved it into his pocket. The man hoisted himself upright and dragged himself and the young woman forward to one of the desolate houses. He shoved the door of the house open, tugging them inside and slamming the door behind them. The house was starkly bare, containing only a small tattered couch and an empty fireplace with a small stool placed next to it.

He laid the woman down on the sofa, and her belly, round with pregnancy, became apparent. Turning to the fireplace, the man produced a slender wand from his robes. He muttered a few unintelligible words under his breath and a blazing fire appeared in the hearth that had only a few seconds ago been bare.

The man walked back over to the young woman and pulled off his cloak, draping it over her still body. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the medallion. With one quick movement, he undid the clasp and slipped the chain around the woman's neck, connecting the ends and letting it fall against her chest.

He stooped and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, smoothing back her dark hair with a hand much younger than the rest of the man's appearance. Reaching once again into his robes, the man pulled out a folded piece of parchment, which he placed on the stool. He watched the woman breathe for a moment, then turned and walked out the door into the night.  
-

The path of street vendors bustled with noise and movement. Crowds of people shoved their way around the narrow alley, inspecting the goods for sale at the Quidditch World Cup. Small children gawked at the displays of toys and adults rushed around hoping to find the best deal before others did.

In the middle of the crowd was a young man by the name of Harry Potter. He was watching the crowd with a mixture of fascination and awe, and his eyes were lit up with excitement. He was shocked at the amount of people that were here, and from so many parts of the world.

Dozens of different languages were shouting simultaneously and clamoring for attention. Did so many people love Quidditch? He felt as if he were but a speck in the overwhelming swarm that was the wizarding community.

He felt a rush of relief and joy that he was here to witness such a sight. Summers at the Dursley's home were his personal hell. If he had a choice, he would never go back to Number 4, Privet Drive again.

Now that Sirius was out of prison, Harry could go live with him, couldn't he?

Harry frowned. He knew the answer to that question. Sirius had told him it wasn't safe for Harry to live with him yet. He knew it was for his own safety that he had to wait, but still he yearned for the day that he could live with his godfather.

He could picture it perfectly: sitting at the dinner table while Sirius told him stories about his adventures with James and Lupin; going for a stroll during the crisp autumn when leaves were a splendid array of yellows, oranges, and reds. And most important, learning everything he could about his parents.

Harry wanted to know every detail about his mother and father. What were they like? What were their best subjects? How did they meet? All the things that he had never been told, that he so desperately wanted to know.

He sighed quietly, and shoved the thoughts aside. He started walking again, browsing the stalls for anything that caught his eye.

He checked his old watch, noting that he still had half an hour to shop before they were all supposed to be back at the tent.

A dozen yards ahead he could see Ron and Hermione, who seemed to be arguing over something. A smile flitted across Harry's lips. It was small moments such as this that it struck him how lucky he was to have the two as his friends.

He continued walking, letting his feet carry him where they would. He didn't take much notice of his surrounding, lost in thought, until the lack of noise broke him out of his reverie. He paused, appraising his new surroundings.

It seemed he had traveled to the outskirts of the vending stalls, so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed where he was going. He spun around, trying to figure out where he'd come from, but in doing so he only became more disoriented.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he decided to look around the few stalls there were and see if someone could help him. After walking a few yards, he heard the distinct sounds of an argument. Or, rather, someone shouting at another person.

He rounded the corner to see an old woman standing in front of her stall, hunching over in fear of a large, burly man who towered over her.

"HOW MANY TIMES MUST I TELL YOU, NO MONEY, NO STALL? YOU HAVE MISSED BOTH PAYMENTS ALREADY, AND YOU EXPECT ME TO JUST STAND ASIDE AND LET YOU GO? I HAVE A BUSINESS TO RUN," the man screamed at her. He raised his hand, wand aloft. "CONFRIN-"

Harry acted without thinking, running towards the old woman and shoving her out of the way of the curse. The spell hit the stand, causing the objects to go flying off every which way.

Harry helped the woman back to her feet, checking her over quickly to see if she had been hurt. When he was satisfied that she was alright, he turned to the man, whose expression was livid.

The man opened his mouth to shout, but his expression slackened and the anger drained from his face as he realized who was standing before him.

"You... You're Harry Potter... The Boy Who Lived!" Harry grimaced at the title, but nodded. The man seemed to fluster, nodding his head quickly.

"I've just been doing some business sir, if you'll just let me get this tramp-" he cut off, walking towards the woman with wand still out. Harry moved to shield the old woman, who hid behind him, trembling.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Harry demanded. The man frowned and gestured with his wand to the woman.

"I just told ya-," he started, but Harry cut him off.

"How much does she owe you?" He said firmly, reaching into his pocket for his bag of coins.

"50 galleons, but..." The man faltered as Harry pulled out a large handful of coins.

"Is this enough?" Harry said sharply, shoving the bag and his handful of coins towards the man.

The man sputtered for a few seconds before going quiet and nodding once at Harry. He then started walking towards another stall to demand pay from another unfortunate soul.

Harry turned towards the woman, who was quietly organizing the haphazardly placed items on her table. "I'm sorry about that man. If he comes around again, tell him that I'll send whatever pay you need."

The woman looked up at him with a soft expression. "I can't repay you," she replied with a remorseful look. Harry smiled gently.

"That's alright. I don't need it anyway." He replied with ease. The woman turned away and started rummaging through her pile of oddities. Harry's smile slid slowly off his face and he turned away, taking it as his sign to leave.

Before he had taken more than a few paces, however, he heard the old woman call out, "Wait!" He turned and saw her hobbling after him, a strange necklace in her hands. When she reached him, she raised the necklace over his head and settled it on his neck.

"It's not much, but I think you'll find it to be quite useful when the time comes," she patted Harry's chest affectionately where the medallion hung, then turned away and walked back to her stall.

Harry's mouth quirked up in a small grin, and he lifted the pendant to examine it. He realized that it was not just a pendant, but, in fact, a silver medallion.

He twisted it curiously, entranced by the bizarre design. He mulled over what the woman had told him.

He decided to examine it thoroughly later, and tucked it into his shirt. He started walking, and after a while, spotted a familiar vendor. From there he quickly found the path back to the tent, and all thoughts of the strange occurence and odd gift left his mind.


End file.
